Diseased [Frerard] [Petekey]

Chapter 2

Two Years Later --- Mikey Way's POV

"Gerard, please get up. I don't have time for this!" I begged my bum brother who was laying on the sofa, passed out.

"I'll be fine here. Don't worry", he 'assured' me.

"No, you haven't left in at least two weeks. Gerard, I need you to grow the fuck up. Yes, it happened, but you're in the real world. Be thankful you aren't in a coma, or dead", I tried to explain.

He was stubborn on his intent to not leave.

"Then it's a sign. I didn't die. Why risk it again?" he shrugged. "Can you pop me some popcorn?"

"I'm going to work", I sighed, defeated.

As I left, I slammed the door to convey my point. Does he not realize that I don't have time to do shit for him? I need to train someone today, not baby his twenty-six year old ass while he complains about how much water takes up the Earth.

I drove to work, reflecting on the accident that got him here in the first place. If only Gerard hadn't stayed up the previous night before the accident watching horror flicks with his friends. He hasn't seen any of them since he was in the hospital. He barely ever gets up from his position on the couch.

I love my brother, but he needs to get over his fear and live.

I pulled into my office and adjusted my glasses before turning off the blaring radio and preparing myself for a dumb new person who wouldn't know the difference between a stapler and a roll of tape.

~

At the end of the day, they new guy wasn't that bad. He was short with dark hair and his name was Frank. He was a pretty cool guy. I found out that he played guitar with his friend Ray on the weekends. He wasn't that stupid, but he was extremely indecisive and hostile when challenged.

I could tell this was going to be good while he worked here.

I went home to find (surprise surprise) Gerard laying on the couch. He was eating one of my ice cream cones, which kind of pushed me over the edge. It was, after all, my last one.

"Damn it Gerard, I am so nice as to let your pussy ass stay in my apartment and be lazy and afraid all day. I don't need you taking my fucking ice cream, too. Why don't you go out and get a job? Why don't you get your own damn apartment? Why don't you get your own damn ice cream cones?" I yelled.

"Mikey, I-", he began to interrupt.

"No. NO. I need you to get the fuck out of my apartment. Don't come back until you have a fucking job at least", I argued.

He kind of sat up and looked down.

"Don't make me go out there", he begged.

I wanted to yell. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cuss. I wanted to get out all the frustration of the last two years. But my voice was stuck in my throat when I remembered that my helpless brother had an actual problem. I closed my eyes and just stormed out of the room angrily without another word.

I went straight to my room and moped in my bedroom. I was doing fine until I heard the light closing of the door. It was the unmistakable sound of Gerard leaving on his own for the first time in two years.

I convinced myself it was for the better, but before I knew it, I began to panic. I thought of the possibilities. What if he got a panic attack while crossing a road and got hit? What if he had a flashback in a park and someone stole all of his possessions? So many 'what ifs' circulated in my head until I simply grabbed my keys and a hoodie for the possible cold Gerard and left to find him.